the way you move ain't fair, ya know
by ten.years.only.with.you
Summary: i don't wanna miss a single thing you do.


_Said you'd never come back, but here you are again. _

She is standing there in her shiny gold dress looking as pretty as he has ever seen her, and Finn would give all the football skills in the world to be able to think of words to describe how drop dead gorgeous she is. He can tell she is a little nervous about confronting Jesse and the rest of Vocal Adrenaline, but her perfectly masked showface prevents any of that from leaking through. Still, she is breathtaking.

"Break a leg."

Straightening his shiny green-gold tie (note to self, talk to Mr. Schue about new costumes), he lazily lopes the fifteen feet and stares down into her eyes.

"I love you."

A small gasp lives and dies on that cranberry pout, and it's all Finn can do to keep from laughing at how shocked she looks. A smile blooms across her face, then she faces the rising curtain, and begins belting out "Faithfully" better than Journey ever could.

His face feels like it is going to break as they sing to each other, with each other, in tune, swishing fluidly the hem of her skirt against his black dress pants. And when he sees her smile that smile just for him, he knows he actually means those words. With Quinn, it was technicality. With Rachel, it's all those things that he hears about but never imagines actually happen in real life.

_If this world makes you crazy and you've taken all you can bear, you call me up and I'll be there._

She's surprised that he is still standing there. Blue paper hospital robe loosely wound around his body, deep hazel eyes lit with something she has never seen in the past nine months: desperation. His hand is crushing hers into a fine powder as she screams and shouts and curses him for his shitty excuse for birth control.

It's all a blur of pushing and shoving and Puck actually crying when she claims that she can't do it anymore. And then suddenly, they have a daughter. Leaning against the window of the nursery, they peer upon their creation. Quinn tears up talking to Shelby Corcoran about her baby girl, but when Shelby asks for a name, it is Puck that answers first.

"Beth."

She doesn't dare to look into those hazel orbs or else she would be dared to keep what they created. So instead she asks what she has been so curious about these long months.

"Did you really love me?"

"Yes. Especially now."

He finally locks her eyes with his, the birth of a smirk twitching on his mouth. Instead of sarcasm or smacking him, she just folds into his arms and hides her own smirk. Maybe he could be enough.

_You can't always get what you want, you can't always get what you want._

Jesse has never been one for emotions or feelings, rather embraces his robotic personality and status climber stigma. But it's a punch to the gut when he sees Rachel and Finn, spinning messy circles and swiveling figure eights, waytooclosetogether in the midst of the audience.

He admits it: he liked her. She was way too over the top about a lot of things, but that wasn't necessarily the difficult part of her personality. It wasn't the animal sweaters or the gay dads or the constant obsession with perfecting her voice and tone range. It was the very fact that she was never going to like him the way she liked Finn.

The guy was too tall and too goofy and absolutely cookie cutter in the most obnoxiously genuine way possible. It made Jesse want to punch him in the face every time Finn opened his mouth and stood up for Kurt's sexuality or befriended Puck despite their constant battle with Quinn or led the glee club to a fantastically power enhancing victory. And he could sing. Perfectly. It almost wasn't even a competition, at least not one Jesse was going to win anyway.

For once in his life, Jesse could not get to the top of something. Jesse could not get to the top of Rachel Berry's standards. And for some reason, that made him disappointed. And nauseated as he watched them flawlessly careen into each other, music flowing forth like it was an easy habit.

Rachel Berry of all people with her animal sweaters and stupid vocal exercises and beautiful ferocity had broken him.

_I want your love and I want your revenge. I want your love. I don't wanna be friends._

When Finn tells her that he loves her, she can feel her cranberry mouth hit the floor, just as the velvet curtain lifts from the ground. She adjusts her green silk ribbon, grin blossoming over her cheeks, and opens her lips letting the words out.

They whirl in time around each other. Finn winking at her and deliberately brushing the sheer fabric of her dress on his legs when he spins her around. The only thing keeping her from jumping on him right now is the fact that they HAVE to win. And if she doesn't know any better, that shared determination of theirs is the ticket to first place and putting Vocal Adrenaline in the hurt locker.

Meeting on stage with the club behind them feels miraculous. Rachel can feel her heart swell in approval when she meets Jesse's eyes in the curtains of the stage, with her hand flat over the palm of Finn's broad chest. She can tell he is unnerved about their performance. The way his hand flies to his curly locks, running through the already unruly mane, and she figures he can afford to sweat a bit. One slight nod of his head gives away the not so obvious worry. She pumps up the volume and twirls again, then he's gone and they're offstage, jumping and yelling. And then Quinn's water breaks.

_Ain't no one gonna rain on my parade._

Everyone else gets to go to the hospital, but Quinn requests that Rachel stays behind to spy on Vocal Adrenaline. She dutifully agrees, keeping a strong stance in the back of the auditorium. Arms crossed over her shiny dress, she watches as Jesse and his minions take the stage. Overdone and under emotional, Jesse struts back and forth rocking the words to "Bohemian Rhapsody", contorting dancers to his rhythm and bowing their bodies to his will. She is almost impressed by the robotically memorized steps and swishes. Almost. When he sings the line of nothing really matters, she ducks out and she thinks that a wave of grief mars his perfectly sculpted showface, cracking an image he took so long to produce. She snaps it in less than ten seconds.

She confronts Shelby (saying her mother means that she actually cares for the woman and values her opinion in life, which Rachel does not) in the dressing area.

"You're not going to win today. Jesse has no heart."

Hollow laughter from the woman that claims to be her mother doesn't dismiss Rachel, rather empowers her. Jesse was a master at the façade and the showface, but that doesn't really mean much in the end. What was the point if there was no one to share it with? Rachel has a family already. She doesn't need the empty promise of another one. And with that thought in mind, she flounces from the room, thankful for Finn, for Artie, for Puck, for Santana, for Quinn, for Kurt, for Mercedes, for Mr. Schue, for all of them.

She has something to share and someone to share it with.

_Don't stop believing, hold onto that feeling._

They lose. Everything: Regionals, their family, their room. And Sue Sylvester has the audacity to show up while he's shoving choir sheets and instruments into boxes. His cool calm demeanor is about to be shot to shit, fingers clenching white and popping knuckles, barely listening to her talk. Her insults are flying as normal today, but they splinter and hurt more because for once she was right. He could not help these kids achieve their dreams by losing at Regionals. If he's honest, it really fucking stings. But he does not anticipate her next move: she compliments him.

"I respect you, Will. You're a good teacher."

Then as if you're not already close to dangerous heart failure, she drops another bomb.

"You've got one more year."She smirks before sauntering out of the newly reclaimed glee choir room. Will has never felt any kind of fuzzy feeling towards Sue Sylvester, but he kind of wants to kiss her right now.

_You've got a piece of me and honestly, my life would suck without you._

The kids sing sitting complacently on stools in the cool auditorium. For once they are not completely on their game: words warbling, chins trembling, lips quivering with the words of "To Sir with Love". All the actions that make a teacher's self-confidence crack in two. Wavering in place behind the sound booth, Will crouches over in defeat, allowing the tears to engulf his cat green eyes.

As much as he regrets being married to Terri, she showed him one internal truth that he doesn't believe he will be able to escape. He needs these kids. He will prove anything and everything to them in order to fulfill all that he never got to accomplish. Now, it is more important to him that they set the world on fire. He truly cannot live without them.

"Mr. Schue, thanks for not becoming an accountant."

He chokes on laughter and grins, mouthing the words along with them. Out of the corner of his eye, he pretends not to notice Sue Sylvester. The end is in sight anyways, what else could she do now?

_I hear you call my name and it sounds like home._

"I love you Emma, and I know you love me too. This thing between us is not over."

She kind of hates how he can sweep in all charming and debonair and give her the butterflies around the cartwheels and somersaults in her stomach with one kiss. And when he says that her "I don't care" attitude goes soaring down the hallway into the teachers' lounge with the stale coffee and crappy conversation. Then he races off to take care of his students since he loves them more than he would ever admit out loud, flashing that winning smile that could cure cancer at her over his shoulder. She finds that, and oh she cannot believe she is thinking this word, _sexy_ as hell.

With an annoyingly satisfied huff, she flits back to her office to jump up and down like an out of place high schooler, doodling their names on a notepad and smiling when no one can see.

_When you see my face hope it gives you hell, hope it gives you hell._

She is beside herself. She_ actually_ voted for New Directions to take first place at Regionals. And she fought with that slag Olivia Newton John and that two cent fugly idiot excuse for a pop star Josh Groban for the chance for her, I mean, Schuester's kids to win. This is absolutely outrageously absurd and did not happen. And dear sweet Jesus, she did NOT just beg for _GLEE CLUB_ to get another chance, did she?

I loathe myself, but on the bright side, there is a whole other year of mercilessly reducing Will Schuester and his cookie baking briar patch of hair to a whimpering mess. Point Sue Sylvester. You're going down, Schuester.

_Well I've made up my mind, I'm keeping my baby. I'm gonna keep my baby._

With her forehead pressed to the window of the nursery, peering in on soft pinks and blues, she feels a sense of comfort that she never felt when she gave Rachel up. She's an _adult_ now. She can do this.

"What's her name?"

Without missing a beat: "Beth." She wishes that Rachel's dads would have listened to a name when she suggested it. She owes Puck and Quinn that much, even though she knows that she is the last person they would want to hand their child over to, considering…everything. Quinn gets bleary eyed, but the boy is worse. And when he can't look her in the face, Shelby realizes this decision, this abandonment, is not what he wanted.

Her heart strings tug, yank firmly at the compassion of the young man in front of her. She wishes she would have been brave enough at sixteen to feel the way that he does. She hopes she can be brave enough at thirty two to accomplish everything for this girl, for _his _daughter.

_And it always seems that I'm following you, girl. _

Okay. I'm in the nursery. I'm wearing a fucking blue paper hospital robe. And I'm crying. Puck does NOT cry, but maybe Noah does. Noah does because he loves Quinn Fabray and their new baby girl. Puck isn't even present at this point and place, but he sure is glad that Noah is.

Noah has loved Quinn Fabray since before he knocked her up and ruined her smoking sixteen year old body. He loved her before she became Finn's girlfriend. He loved her before he was supposed to even like girls (then he found out about sex when he was thirteen and he _really_ liked girls).

He met Quinn when he was eight years old, all green eyed and innocent before his father left. Even then he mother was trying to fix him up with a nice Jewish girl, constantly arranging play dates with Rachel Berry (who even then was absolutely bat shit crazy), but Noah liked blonde hair and alabaster legs and a tart cherry mouth that touched his tentatively on the swing set one Friday afternoon before the recess bell sounded. She had giggled and taken off, blue skirt flipping wildly in the Ohio breeze, pink ballet flats carrying her across the schoolyard.

So when Quinn asks him if he loved her, he answers with honesty for the first time in his life. (The Puck in him leaves out how he has chased her since he was eight and finally revels in the success of landing the green eyes and alabaster legs and tart cherry mouth. Even if it was completely fucked up in the terms of success.)

"Yes. Especially now."

_Right down the line it's always been you and me._

"Glee club will never end Mr. Schue. You _are_ glee club."

And so are all of you, he thinks as he strums the guitar, letting melodies fly betwixt his lips and float aimlessly around the choir room. So are all of you. He has a flashback to the day in Figgins' office when he declared that he'd like to take over glee club (as well as captain the Titanic), and it feels like forever. No one told him that forever could, would, should feel like home, also, that you didn't have to be blood to be a family.

He had his kids. And they had their father, to sir with love.


End file.
